The Areson Stories

Wash Your Hands By E. M. Areson Yàn ate his dumplings in silence. His two room apartment was small, with only a table and one chair to furnish his combined dining room and kitchen. His bed was shoved in the corner underneath it all his clothes set folded. The only non-essential possession he had was a wooden box about the size of a shoe box. It was rather plain and set in the middle of the table next to his dumplings. A loud knock at the door made Yàn sit up. He knew what this meant. It happened so often he could nearly predict it. He walked over to the sink washed his hands then opened the door. Mr. Wang, the newest local Triad leader. He had a thug behind him, in his belt the thug had a rather large handgun. “Come in,” Yàn said in Chinese. “Please wash your hands.” Yàn himself went over and re-washed his hands but Mr. Wang and his thug merely walked by into his small house. “You are a hard man to find Yàn. I’ve been hearing about you though,” Mr. Wang said, also in Chin...

Painless By E. M. Areson This is boring, Algos thought. Can’t they do something else? “Excuse me.” He tried to yell but his mouth was nearly swollen shut. “For the hundredth time. I don’t feel pain. You're accomplishing nothing.” The A.P.P.S. officer scowled, “Don’t run away again.” The man climbed out of the back of the semi and shut the door. Why don’t they have windows in these things? I climbed out of one once, but it was a lot cooler in that semi. Algos twisted his hands in the shackles suspended above his head. I wonder what they do for handless. He smirked or tried to. His face didn’t want to work. He tried to feel as much of his face as he could with his tongue. Blood. Why do they bother? You know one of these days an A.P.P.S. semi or van is going to get pulled over by the cops and the cops will find someone back here and A.P.P.S. will get it. Semi started again and for a while, Algos tried to sleep. Thoughts of the home he couldn’t go back to both h...

South to Freedom By E. M. Areson South to freedom. Who would have thought anyone would ever say that? Noah wondered, he’d never had any real trouble over his dark-colored skin, he had bigger issues, but he knew his ancestors had. “Noah, you gonna’ come?” Emma asked. Noah, are you coming, he translated to himself. “Yes.” Jacob smiled, “Got ev’thang you need from Wa’mart?” “Yeah,” Noah was so out of his element. “I think you’re catching on,” Ethan said punching Noah’s shoulder. Unlike Emma and Jacob, Ethan had been outside of Texas before making it a little easier for Noah to understand him. Emma and Jacob took the cart and went to pay since neither Ethan or Noah were legally alive. Of course, a legal document filed away somewhere did little to stop your pulse. Then again with A.P.P.S. or the Agency for Protecting Personal Security, on their tails, they could never be too careful. Ethan, Jacob, and Emma were siblings and out of the three Emma was the only non-Freak...

Closing Shift By E. M. Areson Closing shift was always dangerous. Even for a normal college student working in a shoe store, life was always quickest to end between the hours of 12 to 5. For a young, female college student who had to leave alone and walk five blocks to a bus stop to take her to her dorm, it was near lethal. Jobs were scarce, so she had to make do. Without this job, she wouldn't have any dorm to go to. Charlotte pulled her jacket around her closer. Even if you lived a hundred lifetime on the streets of the city it wouldn't make you feel safe, mainly because an average lifetime was about fifteen terrible years. Her long ponytail swished from side to side behind her, but she could have sworn she heard something, or more dangerously someone, behind her. She was glad to be in her running shoes, but she didn't dare stop or look behind her.  This neighborhood was not a particularly bad one in the daytime; indeed, someone from out of town w...